Tomatoes
by Lii and Eii
Summary: When Spain brings Romano a "Suprise", Romano struggles to figure out what it is. His only clue? A Tomato. Spain/Romano. By Eii


**Hello, Hetalia Fandom! My first Hetalia fic~ I had to do it. I'm sorry. I can't contain my love for this couple any longer. My first yaoi… forgive me!**

**I don't own Hetalia. If I did, it'd be really lame. Trust me.**

"I'm home!" Spain called out, bumping the door open with his backside.

"Finally," Romano said.

"I got something good!" Spain cheered.

"Yeah? What is it?" Romano asked. Spain waved his index finger in the air, smiling warmly at the Italian.

"It's a surprise!"

"Right. Bastard," Romano scoffed.

"Fine, you want a treat while you wait?" Spain asked, the smile still apparent on his face, and he looked to the boy.

"Spain," Romano said, looking up at the man in the doorway, "I'd take anything if it was from- uh, just give it to me."

"Absolutely," Spain nodded, and he tossed a red fruit to South Italy.

"A tomato."

"Yes."

"A tomato?"

"Yes."

"A…tomato."

"Yeah…."

"Thanks."

Spain chuckled a bit and continued into the kitchen.

"What's for dinner?" Romano asked, leaning over his chair to look at the Hispanic.

"Pasta, your favorite, of course."

Romano wondered what this meant. Spain making him his favorite food, and bringing a surprise? Was it his birthday? No, long past. Was it Spain's birthday? No. Why would he treat Romano, then? Christmas? No, it was May. New Year's? Once again no, it was still May. Could it be…Hanukkah?

"Hey Spain, is it Hanukkah or something?" He asked.

"Uh, no, that's in December. I thought you were catholic?"

"That's right."

Romano went through the list of holidays in his head, and came up with a theory: His brother was visiting.

Italy was going to come, and Spain had decided to be hospitable; giving him pasta. Germany could be coming too, then; Italy never left him alone. That damned potato bastard. If he was coming-well, if he was coming, Romano would light the house on fire before he let the German inside. Where were the matches? No, that wouldn't be a good idea. Germany wasn't worth sacrificing his house. That could empower him. Maybe he could call up someone to stop the man dead in his tracks. Or even better, he could do it himself. Fireworks… yes, he could steal that from America, and shoot them at Germany when he strolled up the walk, and he'd shoot to the sky, so he and Spain could have a dance party under the sparks. He bit the tomato and grimaced. Germans. In his house. The very thought.

"Romano, it's nearly ready!" Spain warned.

"Romano?"

* * *

><p>Romano had already broken into America's house. He walked through the building, thanking his lucky stars England was having an all-night scary movie party with Japan. He tore through the closet, with McDonalds wrappers and odd little animal-shaped rubber bands crashing to the floor in his wake.<p>

"Here it is…." Romano grinned, clutching a box labeled "Hero's Birthday Fireworks". He dashed home, and hid in the bush outside the door.

"Here I go!" He snickered, "That bastard won't know what hit him!" He grabbed his pack of matches, and prepared to light them. The sky was dark; it was nearly nine. _What a late dinner…_ Romano thought. Suddenly, he heard footsteps.

"Bingo," He snickered, "Hah."

He lit the match, and swiftly lit the nearest firework, releasing it towards the source of the steps.

"This is for you, bastard Germany!" He cackled.

"Huh? Ah!" The source squeaked, and ducked. The firework just missed his head, "W-who's there?"

"Wha…."

"R-R-R-Russia! H-H-He's out to g-g-get me! S-S-S-Someone help me, p-p-p-please!"

"Oh my God." Romano said. He hadn't hit Germany, but…

Latvia?

"H-Help!"

"Run, Latvia! Run, he's after you!" Someone down the street called out from a window, "If you're fast enough, You'll be safe!"

"Lithuania, who are you talking to?" A man with a Russian accent asked sweetly.

"N-Nobody! Nobody at all!"

"But you were speaking… to whom?"

"T-t-to God! HELLO GOD, IT'S ME, LITHUANIA!" He sobbed. Latvia took off down the road, crying something about going to Sealand's place for shelter.

"S-S-Sealand p-p-promised to protect m-m-me…."

Romano sighed and went inside.

"Dinner's ready!" Spain called.

"Right," Romano walked to the kitchen and took his usual spot at the table, right across from Spain.

"Okay… So, what do you have for me?"

"Um…Romano, we've known each other for a while… I want to know…. What you think of me."

"What I think of you?"

"Y-yeah," Spain was blushing. Why was he blushing?

"Well….you're my closest friend…"

"Yeah?"

"And…I like you more than my brother, even…"

"Really?"

"And… you're really nice to me."

"That's all?"

"I guess…was that it?"

"I-I-y-yeah."

"Spain…. What do you think of me?" Romano asked.

"I… I like you a lot."

"Well, I like you too, Spain. That's nothing special."

"You're so dense," Spain laughed.

"I'm not!"

"What I meant was… more than a friend, you see," Spain explained.

"So like a brother? An Allie?" Romano asked.

"No… l-like…this," Spain leaned forward, pressing his lips to the Italian's. Romano blushed furiously, and then snapped his eyes shut. They stayed like this for a few seconds, and split.

"Suprise," Spain said meekly.

"I-I see."

"Yeah?"

"You like me….more than any of that?"

"Of course. Do you, Romano?"

"Well, I'll tell you something," Romano said, resting his elbow on the table, "You tasted like tomatoes."

"Yes? And?"

"I like tomatoes."

**Oh my. I know this was probably fail… but please review if you liked it, or if you didn't, because I love to hear peoples' input. **

**Okay, So I'm addicted to the "Delicious Tomatoes" song, and R/S, and I saw this video with the song "Tell Me Your Plans", which inspired this.**

**R&R, for Latvia, and tomatoes. You know you want to.**


End file.
